


Culinary Disaster

by vix_spes



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Guy had wanted was to do something nice for his wife's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Culinary Disaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pers/gifts).



Guy yelped and cursed loudly as he burnt his hand on the cake tin, the object dropping to the solid oak table in the process. As if managing to burn himself wasn’t bad enough, to add insult to injury, this one was no better than his previous attempts. Why was this so difficult? He had commanded (and survived) numerous battles in some of the fiercest arenas of Europe and the Holy Land. Surely a cake should not cause this many problems?  
  
“What the hell has happened to my kitchen?”  
  
Guy had no chance to speak before the scolding began. Instead, he resisted the urge to hang his head in shame as Martha, their cook at Knighton, started to admonish him as though he were one of the village children. In all truthfulness, he could hardly blame her as the room did look as though a war had been waged in it – something that was entirely his fault – but he was still the Sheriff’s master-at-arms and Lord of Knighton. Nevertheless, he continued to stand there as Martha continued to berate him even as she lamented the fact that dinner would undoubtedly be late. All of a sudden, silence descended on the room as though realisation had just dawned and Martha had remembered who she was talking to.  
  
“Oh! My lord, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think … I didn’t mean. P-please forgive me, my lord.”  
  
“Peace Martha. You did not say anything that was not the truth. I apologise for the mess and for putting you out.”  
  
Sensing that she was safe and not going to find herself carted off to Nottingham dungeons, Martha spoke up again. “I beg your pardon my lord, but what were you trying to do? We usually see Lady Marian rather than yourself and she never tries to cook. Not anymore.”  
  
Guy could hardly deny that although he was intrigued by the ‘not anymore’ comment. Marian had been running the household at Knighton since she was a young girl and, as such, had considerably more experience than most young noblewomen her age. As soon as they had married, she had taken over the household and its staff, the whole thing running like clockwork. No, usually Guy was happy to leave any domestic issues to his wife, trusting in the knowledge that they would be dealt with impeccably but he could hardly entrust her with her own birthday surprise.  
  
Guy fought to stop himself blushing as he revealed his reasoning for being in the kitchens. “As you know, it’s my wife’s birthday today and she had mentioned that she would always have this particular cake on her birthday. So, I thought to make it for her as a surprise although, as it turns out, baking is considerably harder than I thought it would be.”  
  
“I can see that, my lord.” The words were delivered with a chuckle that removed the slight sting and he could see her softening as he explained her reasoning. “I remember the cake you speak of. It was Lady Marian’s favourite as a child and she could eat a whole one to herself if her father let her. She did once and she was as sick as a dog for a whole day. She didn’t eat it again for a while about that.”  
  
Guy couldn’t help but smile at that. Sometimes he forgot that the staff here had known his wife since her infancy and he greedily hoarded the moments when the staff forgot who they were speaking to and told him. He looked up as Martha cleared her throat tentatively.  
  
“I could help you make it, my Lord? It would make dinner a little late but we have enough ingredients for a … well, a fourth attempt.”  
  
Guy considered the offer although, in truth, he already knew the answer. None of their guests would be overly put-out if dinner was a little late and he had no doubt that Marian’s appreciation would make it worth his while.  
  
“That would be much appreciated. Thank you, Martha.”  
  
“Very well, my Lord. I’ll tell the girls to get started on the prep and the we shall start.”

  
~*~

  
Guy couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at the sight of Marian laughing delightedly as she danced somewhat clumsily with one of the young boys from the estate. No doubt she would do her utmost to persuade him to join her and Guy would acquiesce as he couldn’t refuse his wife anything, but that wouldn’t happen until later in the evening when as many of their guests as possible would be in their cups and thus not care. There were a few not so discreet whispers and pointed fingers at his smile but most people were now accustomed to the fact that Lord Gisborne was capable of smiling and laughing and had been seen doing so on numerous occasions but any softness was always reserved for his wife.  
  
As Martha had said, dinner had been late but, given the beautiful weather, no-one had minded in the slightest. There had been plenty to drink and, when the food finally appeared, Martha had excelled herself despite the distraction of Guy first causing chaos in her kitchen and then having to assist him. Where only an hour ago he had fancied that he could hear the tables groaning under the weight of all of the food, many of the platters were now half-empty or held little more than scraps and Guy knew that his wife would ensure food parcels made their way to all those who lived on the estate. Guy nodded discretely at Martha as Marian returned to her seat at his side, her face wreathed in smiles. Taking Marian’s hand in his, he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm, smiling as her flush deepened a little.  
  
“I have one more gift for you, Marian.”  
  
“What? Guy, you’ve already given me too much.” As she spoke, Marian’s hands smoothed over the new gown that he had presented her with that morning, even as the candlelight set the jewels in the new delicate earrings to twinkling. The earrings were part of a matching set but Marian had left the bejewelled hair pains (that Guy had had designed to double as miniature stiletto daggers) upstairs on her dressing table, opting to let her hair tumble loose over his shoulders for the evening.  
  
Guy brushed his thumb over Marian’s knuckles as he leant in, lowering his voice as he did so. “I would shower you with gifts if you would but let me.” He gave a wry grin, “however, I’m learning to pick my battles.”  
  
Spotting Martha approach in his peripheral vision, he straightened up. “Besides, I think Martha deserves most of the credit for helping me with this gift.”  
  
“Not at all, my lord. You did all of the work, I simply guided you. Happy birthday, my lady,” Martha set the cake down with a curtsey then backed away as Marian turned to Guy, her delight written all over her face.  
  
“This is the cake I told you about … the one that I had for every birthday as a child. You remembered.” Marian wasted no time slicing into the cake and serving herself a generous slice. Her eyes closed and the moan of pleasure that escaped her at the first bite had Guy shifting uncomfortably in his seat. All of a sudden, Marian’s eyes sprang open and she turned to face her husband. “Wait. Martha said … Guy, did you? _You_ made this for me?”  
  
Guy barely had the chance to incline his head before Marian had clamped her head around his neck and pulled him into a searing kiss that he didn’t even hesitate in reciprocating. Dimly he could hear the cheers and raucous comments of a few of the braver villagers over the roaring of blood in his ears and, come morning, he would probably be mortified that he had acted thusly in public. But, for the moment, he put all thoughts of that out of his head, forgetting that it had taken four attempts to make the cake in front of them, the burns on his hands and focused on the woman in his arms kissing him ardently.  
  
He may not ever be a culinary expert but as he indulged himself and allowed his tongue to delve into Marian’s mouth, tasting that familiar sweetness that was pure Marian beneath the tartness of the apples, he found that he did not care a jot.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/246714.html)


End file.
